


The Child Within My Heart

by XaviaAndromedovna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Divorce, F/M, Future Fic, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Transphobia, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Angst, No Season 4, Open Marriage, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Poisoning, Trans!Stiles, trans!Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XaviaAndromedovna/pseuds/XaviaAndromedovna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a certain former kanima shows up on Stiles's doorstep, his life falls apart even faster than it already was.  Although this time, it might be falling apart in just the way he needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey! This fic was made as part of Round 3 of Teen Wolf Rare Pair Exchange, and I had a lovely time writing it! I usually don't do much with Jackson or Isaac (or Scott for that matter), which made this a fun exploration of the tensions between these four. Also, trans man!Stiles is really important to me, and now I really need trans woman!Jackson to be more of a thing.
> 
> This was betaed by my friend Jake; any mistakes are me not paying attention to his comments :P

Stiles sits in one of the slightly-too-tall kitchen stools he bought with Isaac six years ago now, thinking about just how his life got to where it is. How often does one go from being the spastic queer benchwarmer with a massive crush on the most popular girl in school to being a married father currently divorcing his werewolf husband of eight years?

A husband whose boyfriend-- who just so happens to be your alpha and best friend-- is currently administering your weekly testosterone shot?

“I don’t know, Stiles,” Scott murmurs with his typical veterinary focus, because naturally Stiles says all of this out loud. “All done.”

“Thank God,” Stiles replies, finally allowing his eyelids to stop squeezing so tightly shut. Even after hundreds of these shots, he still hates needles almost as much as he hates taxes and evil tree stumps. “Thanks, man,” he adds with an awkward bro-shoulder-tap. And okay, maybe he needs to sit Scott down at some point and talk this shit out. He jumps down and pulls his pants up just in time for a curly-haired nine-year-old to whiz past him, boy-band-of-the-week backpack hung precariously from his shoulder.

”Camden Boyd Stilinski,” Stiles calls wearily, “if you think you’re leaving this house without hugging your dad goodbye, you’re dead wrong!” The boy stops in his tracks and sheepishly changes course for Stiles’s waiting arms, planting a quick peck on his cheek and snuffling into his shoulder. Stiles kisses his hair before softly inquiring, “are you coming home after school, or are you staying with your father and Uncle Scott for the weekend?”

“Uncle Scott said he’d take me to a baseball game this weekend,” Camden replies with all the enthusiasm of an active young werewolf. “And before you ask, yes I have everything.”

Stiles ruffles the kid’s hair. “Don’t be a smartass.” He tries not to melt at his son’s toothy grin before the little ball of energy practically pushes Scott out the door. (He tries and fails as always; Cam’s always had him wrapped around his little finger.) “Love you, kiddo, be good!”

“Love you too, Dad!” And suddenly he’s alone in the apartment. _His_ apartment now.

He doesn’t cry because it’s not like everything is falling apart, it’s just changing really fast and the life he’s built for himself is splintering in five different directions and Isaac’s not out of his life completely he’s just severely pissed and oh look at that, maybe Stiles is crying.

He lets himself sob it out, head resting on the granite island he insisted they install when they took the loft over from Derek (who ended up moving back in next door anyway two years later). He replays the fight he and Isaac had twelve hours earlier in this very room.

_“Where the hell is this coming from?! You said you were okay with this.”_

_“Yeah, well maybe I was wrong! It happens sometimes, as you love to remind me.”_

_“You’re the one who insisted we were just a financial arrangement, and now you’re all bent out of shape when I actually find someone who_ wants _to be with me.”_

 _“That’s not what I’m saying at all! I just wasn’t expecting you to_ divorce me _when the two of you have been dating for maybe a year.”_

_“C’mon, Stiles, you’ve known this was coming for a while. We’re financially stable, Cam’s starting to take care of himself, and we clearly want very different things out of life. Tell me this is only about money.”_

_Stiles hesitated. Why did he hesitate? “That’s what I thought,” Isaac said with resignation before cautiously sitting in the stool next to him. “Look, it’s cute that you secretly care about me, but I’m done playing subtext. Maybe in the beginning we had a shot of making this work long-term, but you can only get away with telling someone you’re not in love with them for so long before they start to take it at face value._

_“We don’t have to be in love to be good parents to Cam, but staying married will make it a heck of a lot easier!”_

_“Easier for you maybe. Look, as much as I’m extremely pissed at you right now, I do still care about you. That’s not gonna change. But I’m done trying to keep your pieces glued together. Sign the damn papers.”_

The door slams too loud in his ears, but it’s no longer a memory. It’s a knock. He wipes his face in the sleeve of his flannel shirt (“some things never change” Isaac would have said) and pastes on a too-big smile as he slides open the door.

And as luck would have it, his life just got a little bit more interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

Alexa Whittemore looks at the all-too-familiar face in front of her, peers around him, and notices this is definitely not the right apartment.

Well, shit.

“Can I help you?” Stiles fucking Stilinski asks with an amused smile. ‘Oh god,’ she thinks. ‘Please tell me this isn’t his flirting face.’ She makes a concerted effort to raise the pitch of her voice as she pivots on her stiletto.

“No, sorry, wrong apartment.”

“Wait a minute,” he calls, and as much as she wants to stay turned around and keep walking to Derek’s apartment, she knows she’ll have to face him sooner or later. “I’d know that eye roll anywhere.”

She sighs. “Stiles, do we have--“

“Oh don’t even, Whittemore,” he retorts with a flashbulb grin. He’s very clearly enjoying this, and it makes Alexa even more mortified than she already was. “You gave me shit for years about how I’d never be a ‘real boy’, and here you are dressed like Lydia Martin herself. Wait, does she know? Because that sounds--“

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

The brat nearly busts a gut laughing. Alexa growls, because this is decidedly _not funny_. “Oh man,” he wheezes out, “she’d have a field day with this! Actually, she’d probably make you take a day-long mall trip with her.” He leaves the door open and wanders back into the apartment.

”Well,” he offers, “are you coming in?”

“Like I said,” she responds coolly, “wrong apartment.” She doesn’t move from the doorway though, for some reason doesn’t want to.

Stiles looks at her quizzically. “Who are you looking for, Derek? You know he’s not the alpha anymore, right?”

She didn’t, but that’s not what she wants to talk to him about. “Remind me why I should care?”

He huffs out a laugh. “There’s the lizard I know and hate. Although I should probably ask for civility’s sake: name and pronouns?”

At any other point in her life, she wouldn’t have deigned to talk to him longer than he could finish sliding the door open, but she’s a little desperate, okay? Derek’s the only one from Beacon Hills who figured it out, but now that Stiles knows, she has to make sure he doesn’t blab to anyone else. And unfortunately, that means playing nice. At least she knows he won’t be transphobic about it.

”Alexa,” she grinds out as she crosses the threshold. “She, her, hers.”

”Well, Alexa, I can’t say I’m not surprised but obviously you’re safe here, at least on that front. Doesn’t mean I won’t try to murder you for old time’s sake.”

She extends several well-manicured claws. “With what, your lack of hygiene?”

He surprises her with a dart gun smelling suspiciously like wolfsbane that he apparently has taped to the underside of his dining room table. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Why, do you want to take a little wolfy nap? I’ve been meaning to test this out.”

She doesn’t respond, only takes a faux-bored look around the apartment, which even she must admit looks a lot better now than under its previous owner. No holes in the wall, for instance. It’s only then that she notices a somewhat familiar smell.

”Why does it smell like Isaac?”

The smile Stiles has been maintaining since he let her in suddenly falters, his heartrate speeding up to even more hyperactive levels. Interesting. “He umm… he used to live here.”

He’s not the only one, if the strewn-about toys and the pictures on the fridge are any indication. “What’d you do, abduct a kid together?”

”Look, 100% offense meant, but don’t ask me about my life and I won’t ask about yours, okay?”

”Whatever,” she intones. It sounds like a perfectly good deal to her. “Since we’re in the same room, I might as well ask if you’ve come across anything that would be useful for transgender shapeshifters.”

He seems to relax at the change in topic, almost grateful? He puts down the dart gun, so she retracts her claws. “Dude, you came to the right apartment!” She cringes. Stiles is the type of person to use ‘dude’ gender-neutrally, but that doesn’t make it sting any less. He notices though, flushing as he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Sorry. Not used to having ladies around anymore.” He gets up and goes over to a bookshelf with all sorts of strange, probably magical, artifacts and picks out a medium-sized binder labeled ‘Tranny Magic’. Stiles would be the type of guy who reclaims the T word, of course he is. For some reason it doesn’t make her annoyed, just fond. “Here’s what I’ve found so far. Long story short, it’s not impossible to make bodily changes if that’s something you’re looking for, but it takes a little finagling and reinterpretation of the rules. Most of this is just me raging over how biologically essentialist magic can be when it wants to, but there’s some pretty cool stuff in there.”

It’s at least a hundred pages worth of notes, so she stuffs the binder in her oversized purse and puts her sunglasses back on. “Thanks,” she manages. What, it’s a thing she says now.

”No problem,” is Stiles’s awkward reply. They stand there staring at each other for way too long before Alexa finally turns on her Louboutins and calls out a “see you later”. She doesn’t realize she’s smiling until she's outside Derek's door.


	3. Chapter 3

Isaac Stilinski is sitting in Scott’s living room, staring at his husband’s harness.

‘So that’s where it got to,’ he muses to himself with a guffaw at the cosmic irony of finally finding the apparatus for Stiles’s sex dick (as Stiles would refer to it, eyebrows waggling). How it ended up in one of the many boxes cluttering the house Melissa left to Scott when she married the Sheriff, he’ll never know. He’s not even quite sure how he has this much stuff; ten years ago he wouldn’t have kept anything he couldn’t carry on his back. It’s a credit to his new family, however fractured right now, that he feels safe enough to stay, that his fights with Stiles no longer give him panic attacks, because he knows Stiles isn’t going to hurt him. He may be a self-destructive, childish asshole, but at least he respects Isaac.

Well, usually. Refusing to sign the divorce papers wasn’t the most mature thing Stiles has ever done, but Isaac knows this is a lot of change for someone who’s had enough of chaos for one lifetime. He’ll come around…hopefully.

He can’t help but think back to the day the harness first arrived from Canada, the box an unassuming standard cardboard, but both of them convinced the mailman knew exactly what it contained based on his judgmental eyebrow.

_Stiles tears open the package and holds up the leather straps for inspection. “Yesss!”_

_”How do you even put it on?”_

_”I dunno,” he confides off-handedly, arranging and rearranging the straps in endless abstract structures trying to find the most human-looking configuration. His tongue threatens to break through his lips as he concentrates on the contraption in front of him. Isaac loves when he makes that face._

_”Aha!” he eventually cries out as he slips it over his pants triumphantly. “Hell yeah, now all we need to do is adjust the size.”_

_“I can help with that,” Isaac offers with thick swagger. Stiles laughs but doesn’t move away when he approaches, fingers gingerly fitting the harness to the man he’s come to rely on over the past few years. “There.”_

_Stiles puts his hand over Isaac’s and lays a kiss on his lips. “We should test it out, you know, make sure it actually works.”_

_That draws a breathy laugh out of the werewolf. “Pretty sure that requires your pants to be off_ first _. He pulls Stiles closer for a less-chaste kiss and starts--_

”Daddy,” Cam asks from the doorway, “why do you have dad’s special undies?”

Isaac shakes the memory out of his head with a chuckle. “I think they wound up in my stuff by mistake. How was school?”

His son sits the way his brother used to, that and his jawline the only two things Camden has in common with his namesake. The pout is pure Stiles. “We had to write an essay about our families and Mrs. Galloway wouldn’t believe me when I said I had two dads. She said that dad’s really a girl and that boys can’t give birth.”

”Seriously?!” Sure, their situation is pretty unique, but Beacon Hills is usually a lot more progressive than that. And pretty much everyone knows Stiles at this point, including Cam’s teacher. “What’d you say?”

Cam blushes and pulls a note out of his backpack. Isaac reads it and instantly starts cackling. “Oh wow,” he wheezes, barely able to breathe. Out of the mouths of babes… “You are soooooo grounded, hahahahahaha!! Your father’s gonna have a field day with this!”

The boy’s eyes go wide. “No! You can’t show him! Please, I’m so sorry!”

”Are you kidding? He’ll probably give you a medal and the ice cream of your choice!” Cam seems torn between laughing along and melting into the couch, and Isaac remembers that feeling all too well. “Hey,” he whispers, forcing himself into supportive but firm parent mode. “I’m not mad, and your dad won’t be either. You were very brave, standing up for Dad like that. Now, we’ll still have to punish you for using bad words. There are other ways to get your point across. I’ll think it over, but between you and me, you’re gonna get off real easy for this one.” Cam giggles at his wink, and he drinks it in as he always does. Cam’s laughter is the best part of his day.

“Can I read your essay?”

The tiny troublemaker pulls out a lined sheet of paper with large, unpracticed handwriting and hesitates before handing it to Isaac. “Are… are you really never coming home?”

Isaac’s face falls immediately. He knew this would be hard to explain to their son, but the resigned dejection in the boy’s face _kills_ him. “Sweetheart, I am home. I live with Uncle Scott now. Your dad and I… it’s a very complicated and messy situation. But we’re still friends”-- ‘well, not _right_ now,’ he adds internally-- “and we still love you so much more than you’ll ever know.”

”Where will I live?”

”We’re still trying to figure that one out. Where do you want to live?”

He’s quiet for too long to be good. They really need to sit him down together and talk him through this. Too bad Isaac and Stiles are nowhere near a united front right now. “I don’t wanna have to choose.”

Isaac pulls him into a hug and lets him sniffle on his shoulder for a bit. “You don’t have to. We’ll figure it out, and no matter how things play out, you’ll still have both of us in your life for as long as we live. I promise.”

As if summoned, Isaac’s phone chirps with a text message from Stiles. **I’m sorry, can we talk?**


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles isn’t sure what it means that Isaac agrees to talk, but only over the phone. Then again, he is interrupting precious Isaac-Cam time and he’s the one who made this complicated in the first place.

Well actually Isaac started it by sleeping with Stiles’s best friend, not that he’s keeping track. (He totally is.)

“What do you want, Stiles?”

(‘You’, he conveniently leaves out.) “I’m sorry about yesterday. And I’m sorry I’ve been weird about all this, but it is weird, and I think we need to agree on a gameplan before we sign anything.”

“It’s actually pretty simple, seeing as it’s just a formal recognition of what we’ve already been doing for a while now. We don’t live together anymore, our finances are pretty simple to separate, we lead completely different lives… besides custody logistics for Cam, all we have left to settle is the paperwork.”

“Okay well I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Cam is a pretty complicated part of it right now, and until that’s taken care of forget it.”

“Really, Stiles? I’ve been trying to get you to talk about this for weeks. You’re the one who refuses to go there.”

“Yeah well, maybe if I keep ignoring it I won’t have to lose him.” The line goes silent as they both process what he just admitted. Stiles draws his hand across his face and huffs out a stressed “Sorry. I just, this is all happening really fast. Sure, the past month or so has been fine, but what about if something happens, or he needs both of us, or something comes up and we need to arrange for the other one to take him but--“

“Oh my god… Stiles. You’re overthinking this. If anything comes up, we _talk about it_. It’s not that difficult. Look, you’re not gonna lose Cam, or me,” he adds significantly. “We’re still gonna be in your life, just not the way you’re used to, and not as much as you’d like. But I can’t keep bending over backwards to fit my life into yours.”

“I’m not asking you to!”

“Yes you are! I’m in love with Scott. We’re together, maybe even for good.” Stiles can definitely believe that; Scott has taken ‘til-death-do-us-part’ literally twice now. Fuck, his best friend deserves to be happy.

“I’m not doubting that, and I’m happy for you two. Really, I am! I just don’t get why that means we need to change our arrangement.”

“Because I’m not in love with you anymore! Alright, maybe for you marriage is just a financial arrangement, and that’s great, but for me it means something more. Do you even get how awkward it is to be the worst kept secret in Beacon Hills? And I’m including werewolves in that! Literally everyone knows that you’re bisexual, that we have enough of a sex life to have a kid together, that we’re _married_ , that you’re madly in love with me, but we can’t say any of that because you’re too scared of losing your impossible ideal of what masculinity looks like.”

Wow. “Fuck you, Isaac.”

“Stiles--“

“No seriously, you have no fucking clue what it’s like for me, okay? Day in and day out, I have people telling me I’m ‘really’ a girl or that I can’t be a real trans guy if I’m not straight or that men can’t get pregnant and have kids or that being a stay-at-home dad makes me ‘the girl’, and I have to try so hard just for people to take me seriously. You have no idea what it feels like for your manhood to be questioned on a daily basis.”

“Yes I do,” Isaac reminds him. Shit. It’s not quite the same situation, but Stiles met Coach Lahey before he died. Isaac knows a thing or two about toxic masculinity

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But you know what I meant. We keep having the same fight over and over again and I don’t know how to explain to you why I can’t, why I can’t just…”

“I know; that’s why I’m leaving you. I can’t keep having this fight.”

Stiles huffs out a breath and sits on the couch. How the hell did they get here? “I still think Cam should stay here.”

“And what, I only see him maybe once every other weekend? That’s not gonna work. He wants both of us in his life.”

“Then be in his life here! I don’t want him living out of suitcases.”

“Are you kidding me?” Isaac audibly glares. “He wouldn’t be ‘displaced’ or whatever, he’d just have two homes. Sure, it’s a little more complicated than staying in one place, but it’s the best option for everyone right now.”

It’s not, but whatever. “Fine, I’ll think about it. Just, give me some time, alright?”

“Don’t take too long.”

Stiles drops the phone carelessly onto the carpet before curling up in a blanket and processing. The problem is that he knows Isaac is right. He’s making a lot of really good points, but none of it changes how Stiles feels about the situation. He’s petrified of being alone in this apartment, of losing two of the people he cares about most in this world, who he’s gotten so used to seeing every day that their absence is as tangible as the ring he refuses to take off. The past six weeks have made his anxiety return full force, nearly on par with when he was possessed. Hell, Isaac was the one who saved him from it in the first place.

_“You good?” Isaac whispers when Stiles’s breathing has evened._

_He nods. “Thanks.”_

_“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Deaton said we have options.”_

_“Look, thanks for your help, but I really don’t wanna think about supernatural abortion clinics for our werewolf fetus right now.”_

_“Right, sorry.” His voice sounds as tired as his eyes look. “Umm… whatever happens, just know that I’m here for you. We’ll make it work.”_

_He doesn’t respond, just kisses the boy who, yeah, kinda got him into this mess in the first place, but he’s the best thing for him right now. He’s not sure what exactly they are at the moment, but Isaac’s there, and that’s all that really matters._

The carpet below buzzes him out of his reveries. A picture of Cam sticking his tongue out lets him know it’s his son, which is strange. “Hey buddy, what’s up?”

“Dad! Come quickly! Something’s wrong and we need your help!”

“Cam? What’s going on?!”

“Uncle Scott just brought some lady home and she’s oozing! Hurry, daddy, hurry!”

“I’m on my way, just hang tight.” Maybe a wolfy mystery is just what he needs.


	5. Chapter 5

Next door, Alexa is told what she more or less expected to hear: talk to Scott. Of course.

It says a lot about Scott that he still lives in the same house he did when she left. A decade ago, she would have thought it makes him a loser, but if anything London has made her a lot more empathetic. Apparently Scott is a True Alpha-- such a freaking goodie two-shoes that he became an alpha by sheer will. And he’s so dedicated to that role that he hasn’t moved away from his territory even one inch. It’s impressive, if predictable.

Even more predictably, he still works with Dr. Deaton, which is where Scott tells her to meet him when she calls. Being back in Beacon Hills is weird enough, but walking into the clinic reminds her a little too much of the reason she left in the first place. The building hums with too many layers of magic.

A tight-lipped smile is Scott’s greeting. Okay, still not his favourite person. He lifts the mountain ash gate and gestures with a “come on in”. He leads her to a cramped side room that looks suspiciously like a cleared-out closet with two chairs, a desk, and not much else.

“Nice office, McCall,” she can’t help but snark. “Very spacious.”

“If you came here just to make fun of me, you can go back to London. I can have you escorted out of town, if you’d like.”

“Sorry,” she immediately concedes. It doesn’t look like that was the reaction Scott was expecting. “You’re right; I shouldn’t joke when we’re not friends. This will do fine.” He glares hard at her before entering and taking a seat, indicating the other chair with a look that is definitely an order, not a suggestion.

“Why are you here?”

It’s a difficult question to answer. She has many more reasons to stay gone, but besides the desire to make amends and the hope that Stiles had found something to help her, she was summoned more than invited. She opens her bag and pulls out the letter she received last week. When she hands it wordlessly to Scott, his eyes go wide. “So it _was_ a murder.”

What. “You knew my parents were dead? How?! I didn’t even find out until a few months ago!”

Scott’s puppy-dog grimace hasn’t changed since high-school. “I thought we told you. I guess we forgot with everything going on.”

“For so long I thought… and you knew this entire time?!”

“We knew they were dead and that the evidence was inconclusive, but we didn’t have any proof they were murdered until now. I’m so sorry, we should have told you sooner. And we’re absolutely willing to help you solve this. You can stay as long as you need.”

She wants to be pissed, but she’s more tired than anything. Everything about Beacon Hills is exhausting. “I never hated you, you know? Well, I was more than a little pissed at being constantly attacked and kidnapped, but mostly I was just jealous because suddenly you had everything while my life was falling apart. I never-- I’m sorry for the shit I put you through in high school. In retrospect I was kind of a douchebag.”

“You were, but we all were at times. And anyway, now’s our chance to trust each other. I won’t fuck it up if you won’t.” She snorts, and the conversation turns to logistics. When she walks out of the clinic she feels a little lighter. If even one good thing can come out of this trip, she’ll take it

~~~

It would be really great if she could stop leaking black goo every time she encounters the supernatural. Unfortunately, life isn’t that kind and she’s once again vomiting sludge from her body’s attempt to fight off whatever it is she just did to it. Clearly she needs more of Stiles’s help than previously thought. She followed all of Deaton’s warnings for the ingredients he gave her on her way out. She followed the instructions in Stiles’s notebook to the letter after reading the whole damn binder twice. She even followed the directions on the back of the pudding box. (Both Deaton and Stiles said it was the most crucial step. Why pudding? Magic is weird.) What the hell did she miss?

The last thing she wants is to cause drama when she just settled a tentative truce with Scott, but as the alpha, he should probably be in the loop. Also the oozing seems to be getting worse, so Scott it is. If he’s put out by her call for help, he doesn’t show it, but when he helps her through the door of his house, Isaac’s shocked face becomes another issue entirely.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“We need one of the blood towels and plastic bags. She’s having an adverse reaction to something Stiles and Deaton gave her.”

“You’re telling me both of you knew she was in town and no one thought to tell me about it?”

“Can we not do this now, please?” Isaac doesn’t respond, just growls and storms off. Not a moment later, the boy she saw in Stiles’s pictures pokes his head in. He reeks of fear. “Cam sweetie,” Scott implores with unbelievable calm, “call your father. We need his help to figure out what’s wrong with her.” The boy, Cam, runs off with wide-eyed importance, and now’s as good a time as any to pass out.


	6. Chapter 6

Isaac has never been good at dealing with his anger. For so long his anger got him beat, so he would choke it down and let it simmer under the surface until it blew up someplace unexpected. Being with Stiles has made it easier for him to get out of that, and Cam made it imperative that he deal with his emotions healthily. He refuses to let Cam experience any part of that life.

Too calmly, he places the bags and towels by Scott’s side before going back outside to jog around the neighborhood. The neighbors all know by now what they are, and if they don’t then it’s because they refuse to, so he lets himself wolf out, not enough to lose control but enough to open the pathways for his anger to exit his muscles. He makes it through about four laps before his head is clear enough to go back inside. By that time, Stiles has shown up with his box of tricks. He seems at a loss for what to try, but Isaac knows he’ll figure it out. Tears dot Cam’s face, so he ventures in and ignores the other sets of eyes that shoot to him.

“I think it’s time for your nurse to go on break,” he quips.

“I’m fine,” Cam grumbles, but even Stiles could’ve heard that lie, so Scott ruffles his hair and ushers him to his father. He cuddles into bed with Cam and lets him snuffle into his collar, whispering assurances that everything will be fine, and that he did such a good job. The boy cries himself to sleep, after which Isaac heads back downstairs to deal with the giant collection of crises that has accumulated in his living room.

Whittemore-- because of course everyone’s favorite douchecanoe is back from London-- is apparently stable yet asleep, and Scott and Stiles stand up to greet him when he enters. Or maybe it’s more like they’re prepared for the firing squad.

“He’s asleep,” Isaac begins. His voice never rises, but his point is crystal clear. “First of all, I’d like to remind you that we have a protocol for a reason, and I swear if you ever put him through something like that again I will leave you so fast. Secondly, why did no one bother to tell me she was in town? I didn’t even know she transitioned let alone that both of you had spoken to her in person. I’m assuming she tried the hormone treatment you’ve been researching, which is a big fucking deal. I was literally just on the phone with you, and you couldn’t be bothered to mention it?”

“We had other things to--“

Isaac flashes his eyes. “I’m nowhere near finished.” He turns to Scott. “You decide to bring her here, where I live, unannounced and knowing full well I hate her for never reporting my father until the absolute least convenient time. What the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” Scott says as earnestly as he always does. “I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry.”

He takes a deep breath and looks at the woman on his couch. “I’m going to bed. When I wake up, she will not be here. Are we in agreement?”

“Absolutely,” Stiles quickly agrees. “We’ll take care of this.”

”Good.” He turns around and goes back upstairs. He can’t seem to turn his brain off though as he lies in bed listening to Scott and Stiles argue below him. A few hours later, Scott comes in and tries to determine if Isaac’s awake enough to kick him out of his own bed.

“Just get in,” he yawns. Scott tentatively crawls in beside him and makes noises like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

Isaac heads him off. “I’m still mad but I understand why. Before I moved in, this _was_ protocol. You panicked and you brought her here. I get it, I just, I felt completely blindsided and the last thing I need right now is more surprises.”

“You’re absolutely right, I’m sorry.”

Isaac looks over at his boyfriend and leaves a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek. “What’d you end up doing with her?”

“She’s… gonna be in the guest room at the loft.”

Of course she is. “Whatever, that’s Stiles’s problem not mine. Now can you please tell me what she’s doing here?”


	7. Chapter 7

Alexa has been staying in Stiles’s guest room for a week now, and it’s driving him slowly insane. Again.

Okay, yes she’s sick and he’s helping her get better, and he certainly wouldn’t have been able to explain it to the Mahealanis if he just let her stay with them as originally planned, but damn, he forgot how demanding she could be. Her tea must be delivered slightly lukewarm at exactly 4pm Greenwich Mean Time, which amounts to 8am for Stiles’s barely-awake ass. He’s had to go to the store twice for tissues, and though she’s finally stopped oozing and vomiting, it’s hard for her to move farther than the bathroom. There’s always too few blankets for at least half an hour, at which point the heat in the apartment is suddenly way too high. None of this would be a problem if ‘thanks’ or ‘please’ had ever passed her lips.

The only saving grace is that she actually does really well with Cam. Who knew the snotty former lacrosse _**CO**_ -captain had a soft spot for children? He’s resorted to sending him in there when he’s tired of dealing with her himself.

Alright, so maybe having her around hasn’t been so bad. Wasn’t he just complaining about how lonely it was without Isaac? And now that Cam has left for the weekend, it’s just him and her, so they might as well get along. Besides, he doesn’t get to hang out with other trans people that often anymore. Although if any two people are a shining counterexample to the idea that all people of an identity are magically close, it’s him and Alexa. Whatever, at least she doesn’t care enough to ask--“

“So what exactly is the story with you and Isaac?” So much for that. “Usually you overshare at top speed unless something’s bothering you, so spill.”

“Hmm… well once upon a time, fuck off.”

“Wow, fatherhood has definitely matured you.”

“I like to think it takes a mature person not to put up with other people’s bullshit.”

“Well in that case let me give you some sage advice, little man. If you don’t talk it out with someone, preferably outside the situation, you’ll never stop being a pathetic whiny drama queen.”

Stiles sputters. Ladies, gentlemen, and people of all genders: Alexa Whittemore. “So much for gratitude…”

The sigh she issues is condescending and… fond? “Think of this as me returning the favour.” God, he can even hear her pronounce the ‘u’. She only has a British accent when she’s trying to appear better than him, which is like 85% of the time. To be fair, that’s a 15% improvement from high school. “You fixed my problem, I’ll fix yours. Now how’d you two end up married with children?”

He goes back and forth in his head for a moment about whether this is an awful idea or just a pretty bad idea. If Isaac’s death glare at the divorce papers on the island is any indication, maybe this isn’t worse than what he’s currently doing. “Did anyone catch you up on what happened after you lost your scales?”

“Danny and Lydia have given me bits and pieces; apparently you were possessed?”

It takes a lot for Stiles to talk about that time in his life. The nightmares have more or less gone away, but he still feels immense guilt about the things the Nogitsune did with his body. And about the circumstances of Camden’s conception. “Yeah, uhhh… did you hear about Allison?”

Judging by the way her face pinches, she had. “Well, she and Isaac were just starting to become a thing when she died, so he fucked off to France with Chris to deal with the Nogitsune. When he came back a few weeks later, we were both pretty messed up, we decided hooking up was a great way to forget what happened, and we slipped up. It also turns out I wasn’t taking my hormones during all this because I hallucinated that I was cis for most of the time I was possessed, and there was a delay getting more. Anyway, I didn’t find out for a while until Deaton told me I was halfway through my pregnancy. Did you know werewolves have shorter gestation periods? Usually it’s less dramatic for humans, but apparently there was enough leftover fox juice to speed things along, and it was just a perfect storm of things that led to me having Cam at the end of my junior year. My dad wouldn’t let me drop out so we finished high school, got married the summer after graduation and stayed with my dad for a few years. Then we moved into the loft and now he’s in love with Scott and divorcing me.”

Huh. Maybe that was easier than he thought.

Alexa takes her time before responding, only having put an awkward arm around his shoulder during his story. The expected barbs never come. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

“It’s not all bad. Cam is one of the best things that ever happened to me. And Isaac’s been right there through everything. It’s not what I expected, but I love being a stay-at-home dad.”

“And if Isaac’s leaving you then what are you going to do when Cam’s with him?”

Stiles shrugs. He doesn’t know. “That’s why I don’t want him to leave.”

“Well, that explains the unsigned papers that have been sitting there all week. Now, what was he shouting about when you got to Scott’s?

“Wow, you’re just not into tact, are you?” The weight next to him shifts until she’s laying down again, a bark of laughter her only reply. He’s glad she doesn’t push further; there’s only so much sharing circle he can tolerate before the sarcasm leaks out. “It’s complicated. Or annoyingly simple, depending on how you look at it. But that’s a vulnerable moment for another day.” They move on to other topics, and he’s having such a genuinely great discussion that he almost doesn’t hear his phone go off. Leave it to the werewolf to get annoyed enough to point it out.

It’s the elementary school. Cam never showed up.


	8. Chapter 8

While Stiles calls Scott and very obviously spends his energy staving off a panic attack, Alexa changes into clean clothes. It looks today’s the day she tests whether she’s better or not. By the time she makes it out to the living room, he’s hung up and begun pacing, hands running through his hair as if he could dislodge an answer with his fingers.

“Scott says Cam texted him that I was taking him in.” His voice is too quiet, too gravelly. “I mean, I thought it was kinda weird that Scott didn’t come up to walk him down to the car, but I didn’t question it. I didn’t even--“

“Stiles, we’ll find him,” she interjects firmly. “It’s gonna be fine, but you need to keep it together. You can break down once he’s safe.”

He shakes his head in agreement and storms into Cam’s room with purpose. Suddenly the shirt his son wore yesterday is being shoved in her face, which she snatches with an unamused glower. She takes in Cam’s scent and focuses on the nuances that make it up, the laundry detergent and body wash down to the things that just smell like, well, Cam. She tries to retain that profile as Stiles helps her into the elevator.

“Why would someone take him? Is this like a territory thing?”

“We don’t even know he was taken. He could have just decided to skip.”

“He’s _nine_! Fourth graders don’t play hooky!”

“Well if he’s got half your DNA, he probably got distracted halfway--“

“Look,” he hisses. “I know you think you’re helping, but sass is not what I need right now. Camden wouldn’t do that, and in the extremely unlikely event he did, he’d have told us by now. So if you don’t mind, I’m gonna continue trying to figure out someone’s motive for taking him, because that’s the most likely explanation we have right now. Either someone convinced him to cancel on Scott, or someone hacked his phone. Ideas?”

The elevator ping rescues her from responding, but as Stiles helps her into his SUV (seriously, an SUV; at least it’s better than that eyesore Jeep he had in high school), she has the sinking feeling that Cam’s disappearance isn’t a coincidence. “How much have you been told about why I came back?”

The distraught father pales when he makes the same connection. “You think it has something to do with your birth parents.”

“It makes sense. Whoever brought me here’s clearly been fucking with me. I know I did that potion correctly; someone must have sabotaged it.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch don’t you think?”

“Whatever happened to, ‘three’s a pattern’?”

“A taunting letter, possible sabotage, and a kidnapping? Not exactly the clearest pattern.”

“It wasn’t just a taunting letter; they sent pictures of the accident taken before the police arrived with the words ‘You’re Next’ on the back of each one. That’s a pretty clear message.”

Stiles takes his eyes off the road long enough to give her a serious side-eye. “Why the actual fuck would you come back here if someone’s actively threatening your life?”

“When have you ever known me to back down from a challenge?”

His eyebrows concede the point. They continue on in silence, save for periodic interruptions when the scent dictates a turn. He lasts longer than she expected, but he eventually does break it to say, “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“I’m sorry I bullied you throughout school.” Stiles smiles briefly, and that’s that. Eventually they notice a dead end about half a mile ahead and steel themselves for whatever comes next. “We need backup. We don’t know who or what we’re going up against or why.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “Isaac’s gonna be soooo pissed.”

“I’ll handle Isaac. You round up the rest of the pack.” They call any and every supernatural friend McCall has accumulated over the years, and within half an hour about a dozen people have shown up in various stages of apprehension and anger.

“What’s the plan, dude?” Stiles asks the uncharacteristically stoic alpha, eyes twinkling with desperate hope and unshed tears.

“We go in together, united front and all that.”

“What if it’s a trap?” Alexa points out.

“I’ve got it covered,” Chris Argent assures her, indicating the two humans behind him. “You should move quickly.”

“Stay close and let me do the talking,” Scott admonishes, probably to Stiles. And with that the four of them are off to face their biggest fears, hoping the pack by their side can bring them through this unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexa's opinions on Stiles's Jeep are not my own, just saying (please don't kill me for dissing baby).


	9. Chapter 9

When it’s all over, Isaac can’t remember much about the battle except his relief at seeing Camden alive and only mildly injured. He’s still not quite sure why the four hunters holding his son hostage were so hell-bent on getting to Alexa, but all that matters is they won’t be harming anyone else. Liam and Malia are a little banged up, and Stiles is in the middle of a panic attack that Scott and Alexa are talking him down from, but the sobbing child in his arms is alive, and he counts that a win.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” he keeps whispering in response to Cam’s insistent apologies. “You were so brave. I’m very proud of you.” The two stay cuddled like that until Isaac can hear Stiles regain control over his breathing. Scott wanders over and pulls the two into a strong embrace, kissing the tops of each of their heads. An awkward cough loosens their limbs enough to see his husband clutching the back of his neck like he always does when he’s nervous.

“Sorry, I umm… Isaac can we talk?” The werewolf braces himself for a different sort of fight as he follows him out of earshot. Stiles cuts him off before he can start his rant. “I know what you’re gonna say and you’re right and I’m sorry. And you totally have the right to hold this against me until we’re like 80--“

“Oh I will--“

"BUT I think this made me realize how self-centered I’ve been lately and that I still think Cam should stay in one place but that place should be with you and Scott.”

Well, that’s not what he expected to hear.

“At least for a little while,” he hastily amends. “I still want half custody, but for right now that should probably only be on paper. I need some time to get my life together and I can’t put Cam through that. You and Scott can give him what I can’t right now, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize that."

The anger deflates out of him when he sees the torment his eyes, the eternal grief Stiles could never quite shake even after all these years. “Thank you. We’ll take care of it.”

He nods, and then his ‘I-have-an-idea’ face makes an appearance, which Isaac has come to dread over the years. Stiles marches over to where the rest of their family is and clears his throat. “H-hey everyone, uhhh… I just wanted to thank you and umm… make an announcement I should have made eight years ago.”

“Oh god,” Isaac mutters as he rejoins Scott and Camden for the awkward spectacle Stiles is about to make.

“So, big shocker, I’m kinda deeply in love with my husband-- I can still say that for a few hours-- and we were never just a marriage of convenience because I’m bisexual and really into him and I depend on him so much. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that out loud, but there it is. Thoughts?”

No one says anything for a while; they just stare at him like he’s the most ridiculous human on the planet, which is not entirely inaccurate. Then, the child in his lap pipes up with an astute, “well duh!”

Nothing brings a pack together quite like raucous laughter at the expense of one of their packmates.

The divorce papers arrive at the house three days later, signed on every page and ready to be filed. When he stops by to thank Stiles and see how he’s doing, Alexa is still there. Interesting.

He stays to talk for a bit, and when Stiles gets up to use the bathroom Alexa pulls Isaac aside. “So I owe you an apology.”

Isaac rolls his eyes. Either Scott or Stiles must have told her the content of his rant. “It’s fine, I was just pissed off and emotional--“

“Yeah, but you had a right to be. I should have spoken up a lot sooner about what your dad did to you when it could’ve actually helped instead of getting you accused of murder. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t respond because he doesn’t need to. Instead, he asks the question of the hour, “so exactly how long do you plan on staying with Stiles?” The poorly-hidden smirk is all the answer he needs. “Just until we figure out the magical hormone situation. Why, you jealous?”

“Not jealous, just protective. You don’t have your evil goo this time so I have no problem killing you if you hurt him.”

“Noted. I mean, I think it’s a little early for threats, but noted.” The look she gives Stiles when he returns says it not too early at all.

At the end of the day, Isaac curls up with his fiancé and his son to watch a movie. He falls asleep halfway through, too content to care about the ending.


	10. Epilogue

It’s Cam’s 11th birthday, and he’s having the best day ever.

Dad and Scott surprised him with breakfast in bed and a copy of Blow Things Up 3, which he’s been asking for for weeks! Then the three of them settled in for a movie before Dad and Aunt Alexa arrived to help set up the party. All his friends came over and there were games and cake and so many presents, and then when everyone went home he and his four parents started getting ready for part two of the festivities.

This year, his birthday happened to fall on the full moon, so the entire pack came over for a huge feast that Cam got to choose all the dishes for (with some ‘guidance’ from his dads). As the moon rose, the wolves took off for a run through the forest, a howl of celebration bouncing off the trees he ran through.

He comes back and curls up into his human dad’s lap and listens to him talk about adult things with grandma and grandpa, the murmur of his voice and his heartbeat almost enough to make him fall asleep.

At some point after his grandparents have gone home, he hears Aunt Alexa come over and start talking in whispers to his dad. He hears them kiss, which is gross, but at least it means Aunt Alexa’s probably staying around, hopefully for good this time. He hates seeing how sad his dad gets whenever she’s in London. Eventually they carry him and his things to the car to stay with them for the month, as has been the routine for a while now. Cam’s father gives him a piggy-back ride to bed and tucks him in, a soft “happy birthday” the last thing he hears before the best day ever draws to a close.


End file.
